Welcome to Basin City
by Trevor3454
Summary: A rookie cop, Benjamin Tinsley, is transferred to the Basin City Police department, and is taken under the wing of an honest cop, John Hartigan. Set as a prequel to That Yellow Bastard. Rated M for Language, Violence, and maybe sexual content in later cha
1. Chapter 1

Hello Readers, thanks for checking out my story. If you can find the time, please review. I truly appreciate every review I get, and I hope you all enjoy this story

P.S. This is my first "Sin City" Story, and using such a vivid world like "Basin City" for a fiction is a huge task, but I will try to do justice to Mr. Millers amazing work. Also, I don't own any of the "Sin City" properties, but some of the characters in this story are my creation. A main character in the story is Hartigan, and a few other favorites might pop up.

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Chapter one

The warm, dry darkness of Basin city would take a while to get used to...then again, everything here does. Seems like everyone in this city has something to fight for, something to love...something to die for. Everyone but me, Benjamin Tinsley. Twenty-five year old kid in way over his head. The Basin City police building was in the middle of the entire city. Conviently located near old-town...that place is one big time bomb, just waiting for the timer to stop.

Hartigan...he says his name is John Hartigan. He's an intimidating man, yet he has a kindness to him...something I haven't seen from anyone in this city since my first day here. He's gonna take me around the city...well, that's what was supposed to happen. First day in the city...Hell of a day it would be.

"What's your name kid?" Hartigan said to me while leading me to a police car, then peeling out of the driveway.

"Ben...Ben Tinsley...How long have you been a cop?" I asked while adjusting to the high speed at which he drived. The man could have been a millionare in any racing circuit in the state...Nah, Johnny was made to be a cop.

"Bout' twenty years, give or take...you?" Hartigan said with a little hesitation...he seemed like the kinda guy who didn't enjoy small talk, but hell, I'm a stubborn kid...I'll keep talkin'.

"Three years... I was the best shot in my town by the age of ten...figured I'd put it to good use, help some people out..."

"This is a good city to use the skills in... plenty of people need help." Hartigan replied with the thick, and hearty voice that I imagined my father always had...I never knew my dad...maybe that's why the chip on my shoulder can double as an anchor. "You got any family kid? Wife, kids?" Hartigan said with geniune interest.

"Nope...no family...My Mom died last year, and my Dad left when I was three. How bout' you Mr. Hartigan?" As much as I thought I was getting on his last nerve, he seemed to enjoy talking to me...Maybe because I was at the right place at the right time, or maybe because I hadn't been corrupted by the city...which I could tell had happened to nearly everyone I'd encountered in my brief stay.

"I got a wife..Eileen. No kids yet. One day though...my wife always wanted kids...Call me John, or just Hartigan...no use getting all formal. Look at our surroundings." Hartigan was as close as I had to a friend in a long time...sad really. A man I had known for five minutes had become a friend.

"John, yeah, we just got a tip from a witness saying there's shooting going on in Kadie's. Some brute of a man beat a man to a near death, then shooting began." Hartigan's partner Bob said over the radio."

"I'm on it Bob" John said with a voice almost as warm, and deep as the humidity in the air. "Listen kid, sorry we didn't get to take the grand tour, but I'm gonna drop you off at a motel."

"No...Let me tag along...plenty of people need help in this city." I said with a smirk.

"Yeah...plenty of people need help." John said with an identical smirk...I like this guy.

We pull up to a seedie joint named "Kadies" Trashy little place really. The kinda place drunk guys come to drink more, and check out the dame du jour.

We walked into the club, and see some perky young ladies girating their hips for dollar bills. "These your kinda girls Johnny?" I said with an almost juvenile sense of humor.

"Me? Yeah right. The day I fall in love with a dancer is the day I die." John said with the dry wit of every single comedian I've ever heard, and never found funny.

The brute Bob had described in his radio call was easy to find. Maybe forty-odd years old, muscles in places you didn't think could sustain muscles, and a mug that looked like old, worn out leather with beady eyes, and a mouth. The thought of getting on this guy's bad side would make any man get into a fetal position.

"Excuse me, would you happen to be Marv?" Hartigan said in the hearty voice that you would imagine god would have.

"What's it too ya?" The man said while downing a shot of jack. This guy could drink straight diesel fuel and stand upright.

"My name is John Hartigan, Basin City police, we got word of shots being fired here not to long ago, as well as assault, you know anything of it?" John said while giving the beast of a man the benefit of a doubt. This guy must be the last honest man in the city.

"A guy got outta line, tried to get a little touchy with some of the girls, I took care of it Mr...Hartigan." Marv said while reading John's badge. Marv never looked at me...good thing to...The guy scared the holy hell outta me.

"I believe that's my job sir...Who fired the shots?" Hartigan asked while putting his badge away.

"Shots? I didn't know about any shots...The only shots I've participated in are the shots of whiskey I've been drinkin'." Marv said with the crooked smile of a man who either A) finds his own jokes funny, or B) is about to fall off his barstool.

"Thanks for the honesty Marv...go easy on the brews ok?"

"Hell boy, you spend a good hour in my shoes, you'll be beggin for a drop of the good stuff." Marv said while saluting John, turning back towards the bar, and signaling for another round.

Hartigan and I walked out of the sleazy shit-hole, and made our way back to the car.

"Well...Either that man is too plastered to remember anything, or we got ourselves a problem rookie."

"Hell, from what I've seen of this city so far...problems seem to run in packs."

"What do you think... Should we call it a night, and head back to the station?" John said while stretching the tree trunks that doubled as his arms.

"The night is young, maybe something will pop up."

"If I've learned one thing in this town, it's this. If you walk down the right alley in Sin City...you can find anything." John said before peeling away from the club.

Back at the station, John, Bob, and I sat around a desk discussing the problem, or problems at hand.

"The guy said he didn't hear any shots fired... but hell, the guy looked like he had downed enough alcohol to keep us all tipsy for the rest of the month." John said while drinking a cup of coffee. "Has there been any other accounts of a shooting tonight?" John asked bob, who paged through a large stack of files.

"Nothin' John. This don't seem right. This city is full of people just walkin' the streets. Someone had to see something." Bob said while running his hand through his thick, spikey black, and gray hair, and cleaning his coke-bottle width glasses.

"You're right... We have no clues, no leads, no witnesses. No god damn witnesses in a city full of people willing to put themselves in danger just to make the paper, and get their ugly mugs on the five o' clock news."

"It could be a diversion...Keep us focused on this so someone can go on a rampage without us even lifting a finger." I said while drinking a tall glass of milk. I wonder what the older guys are thinking. Some new kid drinking milk? I'll be lucky if I'm not called a pussy by someone in the next week or so.

"Are you kidding? Criminals in this town don't take the time to cover up their fingerprints. Most of this assholes don't have an I.Q above 30. A diversion? Fat chance." Bob said while putting the files back in a cabinet. Tubby bastard.

"Hold on Bob...the kid could be right about this one." John said while looking out the large window in the office, almost as if he expected a suspect to jump out with a bullseye on his head.

"Whatever Hartigan, I'm staying out of this one...just seems fishy." Bob said before walking into his secluded office.

"Tell you what kid, go get some sleep, we'll handle this in the morning." John said as he put his coat on, and patted me on the back. He walked out of the building, and I could hear the tires on his cadillac squealing as he took off. I knew right then that my time here, would be one hell of a ride.

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Ok, that's the first chapter! It may have been a little on the boring side (I hope not!) but that's only because I wanted to really flesh out the base story, and the instant friendship between Ben, and Hartigan. I'll work on another chapter soon. PLEASE REVIEW. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hey my lovely readers! First off, I want to answer a question that was asked in a review. Yes, this is several years before Roarke Jr turns into "The yellow bastard". I made references to this by writing that Hartigan had twenty-odd years of experience, when in T.Y.B, he states he has 30 years to his name ( A small detail, I know, but I just wanted to clear that up for you.)

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Chapter Two

After my long night with Hartigan, I retired to Mimi's motel. Not too fancy, but it gets the job done. I hit the sack after a bottle of gin, and a failed attempt to locate my fathers name in the national directory. Where are you, Aiden Tinsley? Fuck im', like he would give a damn if I died tonight.

The itchy excuse for a matress that was in the room kept me up most of the night. I figured it wouldn't do me much good to sleep anyways...No one else in this city does. I leave the Motel at 4:30 A.M. No one's in the offices yet, so I take a joy ride in my rented caddy. You can't say enough good things about a drunken joyride in a caddy that you could total right there, and not give a second thought. I just drove around the city until the department opened. I expected to see a bright sunrise, but the smoke, fog, and clouds blocked all light. Seems like this place is dark forever.

I walked into the building with a firm hangover...Hell of a way to start my first official day on the force. Hartigan was at his desk holding his head while leafing through the same files Bob had looked through the night before. "Hey Hartigan!" I said while grabbing a styrafoam cup of coffee.

"Hey Ben, get any sleep?" Hartigan said while putting the files into a drawer.

"Not much, is it ever sunny in this place?" I asked while sipping on the black coffee.

"Not really...kinda depressing really, but, you get used to it...Listen, I was looking through the files again, and I came across the name Jack Gafferty. He's an arms dealer somewhere outside Old-Town. I was gonna take Bob along, but that man doesn't get up earlier than 2:00 PM...Wanna go check it out?" Hartigan asked me while downing a glass of water with some sort of pill.

"Sure John...but can I drive?...Shit, you drove so fast last night, I nearly lost my lunch." I said with a smirk.

"Uh...no, you can't handle my car." John said while grabbing the keys to his hot rod. We got in the car, and what do you know...he didn't pull out like a maniac...maybe because I mentioned it.

We had to drive around the border of old town. The streets were covered with mud, and blood. Girls in leather, and lace stood on the corners giving me the sweetest looks I had ever seen. They must think I'm too young to be a cop...too bad really. I'm not that kinda guy, but shit, I've been alone for three years. Maybe a night with a good woman is exactly what I need. We get to what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Hartigan stays in the car as I start to get out. "Ben...take this radio, this guy knows what I look like...he knows I'm a cop. Go in there, and try to get some info, just call if you need backup...alright?" Hartigan said after handing me a small walkie-talkie.

"Yeah...be ready." I said as I pressed the hammer on my gun...you can never be too careful.

I walked into the building to see a figure sitting on a stool facing away from me, watching some old cartoon on a handheld T.V. "Hey...I was wondering if you might know where I could find some 'tools' " I said to the bushy haired figure a few feet away.

"What kinda 'tools' you lookin' for stranger?" The man said in the middle of random corny cartoon sound effects.

"Tools that one might use to hurt certain people." I said with a steady wit, and strength I didn't even know I had in me.

"Why in the hell would you think I might be in possesion of the items you seek?" He asked without taking one glance at me.

"I'm friends with some little birdies...I hear alot of things...I was wondering if maybe I could...lets say purchase some tools." I said while brushing some strands of dark brown hair from my view. If you think I'm not nervous, you're about as wrong as wrong could be.

"Well then...I have a number of certain tools for your purchasing pleasure...follow me into the showroom." The enigma of a man said while getting up out of his chair, and not facing me for a second. I followed him into a back room with rows of weapons which were made visible by light blue neon shelves.

The man finally turned around, and I could see why he wasn't anxious to reveal his face. The guy had a nose the size of a ballpark hot dog...ugly son of a bitch.

"Well...you're a regular Willy Wonka my friend...is that...a Ber..." He cut me off.

"Beretta mustang...250 of these things in the world...I have about 50...You can have one for a pretty penny...Interested?" Jack said while letting me hold the gun...I'm here to put this sucker away...but god damn is that a fine gun...I'll get one on the way out.

"Now...I'm not trying to pry jackie-boy...you mind if I call you jackie-boy?...Good. Anyways, I want a list of your happy customers...just to see if what you have stocked here is the real shit." I asked with a smirk. Jackie-boy...catchy.

"That's an odd request there stranger...You think I'm a fake?"

"That's why I need the list Jack! I don't want to be wastin' my cash on a "Beretta Mustang" only to find out it's fuckin' trash..." I said with a stable, firm tone. I'm such a lame-ass.

"I can't do that kid...Now, if you aren't gonna buy any merch, I think it's time to leave the candy shop." Jack said motioning for me to walk away...Well...here goes nothing.

I pull out my gun, the hammer already pulled back, ready to kick. He looks suprised at first...then it hits me...I just pulled a gun on a man who could grab, cock, and shoot a gun before I could pull the trigger. "Listen Jackie-Boy...The act is up...My name is Ben Tinsley, Basin City Police...Listen, I'm gonna need your client list..."

"Stupid fuckin' kid, do you know who I am? Do you have any idea who my friends are?" Jack said, clearly unphased by the gun at his head.

"From what I've heard, you have a lot of friends...ages 8 to 14." Bad move kid, now he's pissed off. Now he has a reason to kill a cop...I sure as hell hope John isn't caught up in a book right now.

"I see how this is gonna be...you know what, I actually thought you were cool for a second there...too bad huh." Before I could think, he had one of the mustang's in his hands, and fired a shot that grazed my shoulder. It hurt like a bitch, but it didn't catch any meat. John, from just inside the door, fired a shot that, through some act of god, hit Jack right in the knee.

Jackie-Boy was on the ground in a second. I gripped my shoulder tightly, but never took my eyes off of him.

"Listen Mr. Gafferty, I thought maybe we could do this in a civil manner, but it got ugly quick. Here's what's gonna happen. You, are gonna run off a copy of every single person who bought a gun here in the last three months. You will keep your mouth shut, and you will clean up your act.

"This is my last dirty job man, I'm trainin' to be a cop right now actually...I'll give you the list...but you better fuckin' hope I don't run into your little boy wonder here ever again...so help me god I will cut y...AHHHH...SHIT!" He screamed as John shot him again in the hand.

"The list...NOW Jackie-Boy!" John said before taking a shot gun off the wall, pumping it, and shoving it in his face.

"Fine...Fine...help me up...I'll give you the names." And a few seconds later, we had the name of everyone who had purchased a gun in months. It wasn't a bulletproof approach, but it was definitely a start. I grabbed one of the beautiful mustangs off the wall, as well as a gold plated revolver...for John...I figure the man has an appreciation for a good handgun.

We got back to the station, and wrapped my arm up real good. "First time you've ever been shot Ben?" Hartigan asked while looking over the names on the list.

"Yeah...I knew it would hurt, but damn!" I said with a smirk as I walked around the office, and looked out the window. "Maybe this city ain't right for me John...Maybe I'm better suited for somewhere on the coast...somewhere with actual sunlight."

"Maybe...but then, I'd be stuck with Bob six days a week. It's good to have some new blood around...especially a good kid like yourself...You did good today Ben...You're a little quick on the draw...but hell, who isn't at your age." John said while drinking a tall glass of water.

"Hey...I'm gonna go try to get some rest John. Give me a call if something comes up. Kay?" I said as I grabbed my coat, and headed towards the door.

"Uh...yeah sure...You can't let this place consume you all the time. You spend all your time in here, you'll end up like the rest of us...Old, and miserable...Later Benjamin." I heard John say as I walked out of the offices.

I walked through the dark, wet streets for the first time. My motel is a few miles on the other side of Old-Town...My luck huh? Halfway through the whore infested streets, I hear a scream...Hell, anyone within a good five mile radius could hear that scream...maybe I'm just the only kid foolish enough to go lookin for the screamer. I ran on the sidewalks, dodging the hookers, and whores until I could hear the deep breathing of a woman that was ready to die. I looked around the corner, and saw something I never expected.

A woman was on the ground, curled into a ball of flesh, and red satin. A man I couldn't describe stood over her, taking his time to calculate the right spots to kick her in. "Hey, leave her alone!" I yelled on the other side of the alley. The man looked my way, but didn't move. "Hey, I said leave her alone." I said again a little louder. My good arm was positioned at my side, ready to whip out my new toy if needed.

The figure walked towards me, his features becoming more, and more clear as he got closer. His pale blue eyes, and jet black hair set him apart from anyone else I'd seen so far. "Who in the blue hell do you think you are kid?" The man asked, I could tell he was lookin' for a fight.

"Ben Tinsley, leave the woman alone, or I'll call the cops!" I said threatening him. I figure it was best not to reveal myself as an officer...I've heard stories about Cops going into Old-Town and not coming back out.

"Cops? Are you fuckin' braindead child, Cops have no power here! What are you gonna do...Huh? She's a whore, she ain't worth shit, why are you her guardian angel?"

"Maybe because I believe people don't deserve to be beaten for something as stupid as this...let her go man."

"Heh...Fuck you kid." And before I could react, the S.O.B nearly knocked me out with a hard left to the face. I hit the side of a building hard, and fell on my ass. He started to choke me with his fat, greasy hands. I pulled out my gun, and hit him in the head with the butt end. He collapsed to the floor like a wad of flesh colored jello. He wasn't dead, but he'd have a nice little mark when he came to.

I ran over to the still balled up woman, and helped her back to her feet. She stood up on her own soon, and when I looked at her for the first time, I was amazed.

Long Brown hair, Caramel skin, green eyes, lips to kill for, and a body to die for. "Hi..." She said in a shy, light voice. She wasn't a whore, she just took a wrong turn, and went straight into hell.

"Hey...you ok?" I said as I rubbed her shoulders to stop her quivering. I soon took off my coat, and put it on her. "I'm Ben...You got a name?" I asked as she covered herself with my coat.

"M...Maria...Maria Cole" She said with a shocked stutter, and a quivering lip.

"Why are you in this place anyways?" I asked as I led her to a stoop, and helped her sit down.

"I...I'm new to the city. I got lost, and all of a sudden that man came up to me and pushed me around."

"Yeah...well, walking around Old-Town in a red dress may not have been the smartest choice...Let me take you down to the station...get you some coffee."

"Station?" She asked with a smile, and a southern drawl so beautiful, she makes the mona lisa look like trash.

"I'm a cop, and I want to make sure we get you to where ever it is you call home alright? Follow me."

She grabbed my arm, and we walked back through Old-Town, and back into the heart of the city. Maybe it was the cool evening air, maybe it was the lilac smell of her perfume, maybe it was all in my imagination but right then, this place didn't seem so bad.

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Hey again, hope you liked Chapter 2. I hope you don't find it too violent, or too romantic, and I sincerely hope you truly enjoyed it. I cannot tell you how much I love reading your reviews, so please, please, PLEASE take the time to write down your thoughts. Chapter 3 will be on the way soon, so keep on reading! 


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again old friends, and welcome back. First off, I want to say how completely sorry I am for the several months between updates, I've been so wrapped up in school (junior year can be a bitch) and other stuff, and the last thing on my mind was this, so again, I apologize. Again, I want to thank the two people who have reviewed so far, and I want to thank in advance anyone who will review this, or future chapters. Enjoy!

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Chapter 3

It had been four days since I had met Maria Cole in that old-town alley, and all I could do was think about her. Hartigan, and Bob had looked over that list of names from Jack Rafferty's gun shop about ten times, but hadn't found more than three people with criminal records. John and I had driven up to two of the three ex-convicts with no success, so we decided to check out the third and last guilty suspect…Brian Sanderson.

John and I pulled up to the ugly apartment building that our last hope had resided in. Our suspect lived on the first floor, which was about the only good thing about this lead. We cracked open the suspiciously unlocked door and entered the apartment to shocking results. The tan walls were covered with blood, and the place smelled to high heaven. John held his hand over his mouth as if to physically push vomit back, and he never vomited. I took out my berretta 'stang just in case, and John pulled out his revolver as well. We took separate sides of the small condo, and as I opened a door to god knows where, I had to fight back a yell.

I had opened the bathroom door, but it looked more like a doorway to hell. There laid a body, with two gun shot wounds to the chest, and a large puncture wound into the mid chest. "John! You gotta come here and see this" I said at the top of my lungs. Seconds later, he was right there, and as disgusted as I was.

"Well Ben, looks like we found our shooter!" John said while staring at the body which is disgustingly deformed and bloody.

"Call the station, and tell them that Sanderson is our killer, all we have to do now is find him." I said while covering my nose, and mouth away from the stink.

"Wait…hold on…give me that towel" Hartigan said while pointing to the green towel hanging on a rack. I handed it too him, and he tore it in two, and wrapped his hands with it.

"Uh, John, what the hell are you doing!" I asked as he kneeled next to the body.

" The chest cut, I've seen this before. A few years back, some psycho would gut the victims and take all but one organ." John said as he hesitated to touch the carcass.

"Why would he leave an organ?"

"That's what we couldn't figure out. That and who the hell was sick enough do it."

He slowly reached inside the body, and felt around, his face was horrified as he made the realization. "It's him…he left the liver."

"Christ…so what now?"

"Wait…something's not right…His profile said he's only twenty-four years old….that would mean he was doing this at thirteen years old. Now I'll believe a lot of things, but I'd need undeniable proof to believe that a thirteen year old boy could be a serial killer."

"I hate to say it, but in this city, I'd believe anything."

Back at the station, the two of us sat baffled at the situation before us. A killer from eleven years ago just decides to come back now, and it makes me sick. Sanderson is our prime suspect, but all we know is that he was in jail twice: once for assault, another for possession. Violent: sure, a killer: not likely. I tell John I want to go get some rest, and I leave the station, and I see her.

I randomly look to my left, and I see that caramel skin that has haunted me ever since I dropped her off at her condo. "Whoa, kinda stalkerish don't you think?" I asked with a smile.

"Actually I was just walking by to go to the store, and I thought I might walk in and say high, but you saved me the walk." Maria said with the voice that Shakespeare could have written sonnets about.

"Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself" I replied with a small smirk. She smiled back, and looked away. I wasn't sure if she was flirting or uncomfortable…I really didn't care.

"Well hey, now that we're talking again, I wanted a chance to repay you for…you know, saving my life. So…how 'bout a cup of coffee?" She asked while twiddling her fingers.

"Sure, I save your life, you buy me a cup of coffee…seems like an even trade-off." I said as we walked towards one of the last coffee shops in the city.

I dropped her off at her condo after a few hours of coffee, and conversation, and I put my badge in my coat pocket as I had to walk back through old-town. About halfway through the dark streets, I heard a voice I didn't recognize

"The body Mr. Tinsley, I'm assuming you found it." Said the disembodied voice in the darkness. I turned around flicking the falling rain off my body. No one is there. He must be hiding behind a corner, or something.

"What are you talking about?" I didn't want to go detective right away, I wanted to see how he got his info.

"The apartment, the body. Two bullet holes, large gash in the center…he left something didn't he? I've been watching the boy, and I must say, he's coming along rather nicely, he's gonna be legend." The deep thick voice said. I kept my hand ready to grab my gun and I turned around again. The rain, and darkness made it hard to see at all.

"Sir, you must have the wrong guy…but what you're telling me could get you in trouble with the police." I said maintaining my fake confusion. I couldn't see him, so I didn't know if he was buying it.

"Oh Benjamin, don't be silly. Just because you're a cop doesn't mean you're an actor." I was freaking out at this point, how in the hell did he know how much? "This Sanderson guy…he's not your guy…he wanted to be… he trained for so long, and he believed he would end up like the greats, and he had the potential, just not the precision." The voice added.

"Then who is he?" I asked, it was useless to act anymore.

"You don't really expect me to answer that do you? I'll give you one small hint…he's coming…Oh he's coming. He had to hide so long, it drove him crazy… well, crazier. Now its unavoidable. He can't die, he can't stop, and he can't be stopped. He…likes you. He finds you to be a perfect specimen. Good exterior features, yet kindhearted. Could own this town in a second but instead you work with that insufferable time bomb Hartigan. He wants to know why you do what you do…he wants to know why you are what you are….he wants to know why live your mediocre life…and he'll find out…he always does."

He stops talking, and I pull out my gun and fire blankly into the dark, and as I turn the other way I feel it happen. My eyes go wide and I can feel the cold already creeping through my bones. I feel the pain, I can feel the blood…I can feel the knife in my abdomen.

I try to fight the sleep coming to me, my eyes are so dazed I wouldn't have been able to see my attacker if it was broad daylight. I fall to my knees, I leave the knife in, knowing if I take it out, I'm done. As I finish that thought the knife is ripped from my body, and I shiver as I fall flat to the pavement. I cough up blood for about ten seconds, and I can feel them hovering over me. Two figures stand before me, and I can't see. The killer is right in front of me and I can't see.

"I told you he'd find out Benjamin…he always does. You're gonna come with us Tinsley, we have to find out what you're made of."

I drift off, and the last thing I remember is being thrown into the back of a truck, and punched in the face by a dark fist.

And then there was silence.


End file.
